The Star Among the Candles
by crazy homo in space
Summary: "Your heart beats celestial, but the soul hidden in your eyes is aquatic. You cradle the terrestrial, my love." I could have gone years, lifetimes without understanding what Mimihagi meant, his words like constellations shrouded in mist. But when I saw him for the first time… I understood. [prequel to The Willow Among the Flowers] [KyoUki]
1. space

**Author's Note:** I've wanted to write this silly thing forever. :D The flu finally gave me the opportunity and motivation.

Warnings for this chapter: Mimihagi is a little weird, Ukitake loses his virginity.

* * *

Are you a believer in fate? I am. Some say that life is a boat, manipulated by the waves of the ocean, or the pull of the moon; that gusts of wind can fill our sails or leave us stranded. I think that it's more complicated than that. I think that our fate is an orchestration of different forces, different souls blending and harmonizing to blaze our path.

I was born into the Geisha lifestyle. When I reached the age of eleven, I was selected by the famous Geisha Mimihagi to become his apprentice. Mimihagi was the embodiment of grace, a shadow flickering in the light of a candle. As long as I would live, I would never, never forget the darkness that he possessed. It wasn't a malevolent darkness. It was the peaceful cover of a starless night. I spent hours of my life brushing through his hair, locks so thick that a handful would swallow my hand. Not once did I see a reflection in those ebony eyes. They didn't glisten with tears, nor did they shine in sunlight. He seemed to stare into space, seeing every person, every flower as a new and cold galaxy. Mimihagi in full costume walked in my dreams, the way he inked his teeth and wore only the most pitch silk. He looked like a spirit, one who existed on the other side of the candle and the star. Some said he was a devil, a hand reaching up from hell itself. But the core of our earth was lit in fire, was it not? And our heaven is dark and cold. I always thought them to be misled.

Sougyo no Kotowari. That is what he named me. I asked him once, when I was but a Fukutaichou. Why would he, a spirit of the night, choose to name me such? Tradition had predicted that my name would be Kamikake. Why the deviation?

"The ocean is terrible," he told me, eyes unfocused as he stared into the river. "It's deadly. It pulls men into its thrall, dashes them against rocks, strands them with the promise of a new destination." He lies by the riverbank, hand dipping into the slow-flowing water. "But it's so beautiful. On the surface, it reflects every beam of light it can catch. But delve deeper, and no light escapes its grasp." He smiled, though it can barely be considered such. "Life craves water to such an extent that it has its own pain, its own suffering- no, its own torture- dedicated to its craving." He brought his hand to his mouth, letting the river water drip onto his tongue.

"My sweet Jushiro, I long for you to move like darkness, swirl like galaxies, resonate like song of the planets, but quench like water. You hold a tremendous power that I can only hope that you learn to harness." He turned to me. "Your heart beats celestial, but the soul hidden in your eyes is aquatic. You cradle the terrestrial, my love."

I could have gone years, lifetimes without understanding what Mimihagi meant, his words like constellations shrouded in mist. But when I saw him for the first time… I understood.

I was still new, young and gawky, limbs long and face youthful. I was the moon in Mimihagi's orbit, with my hair of spun silver and my eyes as green as waterlilies.

Waterlilies. That's right. I was wearing my waterlily kimono, wasn't I? I loved that garment. The design on the hem and sleeves give the illusion that I walk knee-deep in the river, the silk spreading around me as if I'm a floating lantern.

As expected for a Fukutaichou, my face was painted far more intricately than that of my Taichou. But Mimihagi, in his deep eccentricity, chose to paint only half of my face in shades of white and blue. He called me his moon on the lake.

I cradle the terrestrial, he'd said.

The man sitting before me was the most earth-bound creature I've ever laid eyes upon. His hair was the deep mahogany of rich and fertile soil. It looked just as soft, though it curls as tightly and as thickly as the jungle. His eyes were a steel grey, loaded deep with strength and kindness. The gaudy kimono draped over his shoulders was… out of place among the company he kept, but it whispered his personality into my heart. Being a Geisha taught one to judge on appearances alone. It was a long-discouraged practice, 'judging a book by its cover.' But was effective. There was love swelling in that young man.

Mimihagi always had the eye to read my soul without a moment's hesitation.

"His cup is empty," he breathed flippantly, reaching an arm out from under the cover of his hair to gesture to a teapot. I bowed and took it, quietly approaching the captivating young man.

"I've never seen you around before," he said to me, giving me a smile as I pour tea into his cup.

"I am Mimihagi's Fukutaichou," I purred, brushing the back of my fingers against the clay of his cup, ensuring that the tea was still warm. It was, pleasantly so, and I placed the cup before him.

"Your name?" He brought the cup to his lips.

"Sougyo no Kotowari."

I paused as a grimace took over his face. "Does this displease you?"

"This tea? Ugh." He set it aside. "Drink it. What do you taste?"

I hesitated. He lifted cup and reached out to take my wrist, turning my palm skyward and lacing the cup in it. I take it reluctantly, and bring it to my lips for a taste.

"It's matcha." He nodded, sticking his tongue out playfully.

"Sweetheart, do you mind discreetly bringing me some sake?" He paused. "Wait, you never told me your name."

I regarded him with confusion. "I did. It's Sougyo no-"

"No. Your _name_." He was insistent.

"...Jushiro Ukitake," I whispered to him, and could see the shiver up his spine.

It was a task, I recall. But I was able to place a tiny dish of sake into his hands. He rewarded me with the most radiant smile, capable of sowing the seeds of a bountiful garden in my heart.

That night, as we left the teahouse, Mimihagi turned to face me, nearly disappearing into the approaching dawn that hadn't yet broken. "Bid goodnight to your client, Sougyo no Kotowari." His head cocked as he drifted away, making it clear that he wasn't going to wait for me. The okiya was close. I knew my way, even in the sunless morning.

"Good evening," I said softly, bowing low to this stranger who had lightened my night, making a fledgling Fukutaichou feel as alluring and captivating as his Taichou.

He didn't respond. Instead, he kissed me.

Inexperience overwhelmed me as his arms wrapped around my thin body. One held my waist, while the other cupped the back of my head. I held my arms up in surrender, unsure of what to do. My breath slowed and my heart quickened as he encouraged me to open my mouth, his tongue flicking at my lips and teeth. I respond instinctively and his tongue made itself at home in my mouth, sending sparks of excitement up my spine as he grinned against my lips, body pressing against mine. I lower my hands, one resting on his shoulder while the other supported his cheek. He tasted like sake and rice, with just a hint of green tea.

My breath was thin and labored when he pulled away, licking gently at my bottom lip.

"If all matcha could pass through your lips before meeting mine, I might find it more tempting than wine."

The compliment sped my heart. His mouth was smeared with blue, and panic filled me.

"I must go," I said urgently, trying to find Mimihagi in the distance. I turned out of his arms and he twirled me back in.

"Wait," he whispered, kissing my neck, and I briefly forget my urgency. "Shunsui Kyouraku. That's my name. Shunsui Kyouraku." He kissed my ear gently enough to make my knees weak, before patting my bottom in a way that should have offended me.

"Go. Don't get in trouble with your Taichou."

I smiled and stepped away, though hesitated for a second. "Shall I see you again?"

"Bet on it, baby."

As I walked away, excitement still pounding in my chest, he licked his lips slowly, but didn't bother to wipe my makeup off of his mouth.

* * *

If nothing else, Shunsui Kyouraku was a man of his word. Every party where Mimihagi was expected to entertain, he followed like a lost puppy. If it had been anybody else, they would have been seen as a pest at best, unsettling at worst. But that man shoved his way into social circles that I wouldn't have thought him capable of, with that goofy kimono and the even goofier little goatee on his chin.

But as I looked at him, I could still feel the gentle scratch of that goatee against my hairless chin. I could still taste sake as it was filtered through his lips, and it made my heart clench.

"Geisha do not feel love," Mimihagi told me one day, snapping a gold paper fan closed against his thigh. "It is not within our nature. Men and women desire us, tell us they love us.. but we know better, Jushiro. We are beyond that."

I had known why he said that. He saw the way that Kyouraku and I would look at one another at parties. Mimihagi could be cruel and merciless when the mood struck him. And with such an important, delicate topic, I expected him to be. But he remained level, the soft and muffled Mimihagi that I knew well. He wasn't trying to scare me, he was going to let me learn the lesson on my own.

Shunsui Kyouraku was an open book, fascinating and deeply faceted. He worked for the government, and was climbing his way up the ranks at an unsurpassed rate. The night we'd met, he was a mere junior contractor, little more than a glorified errand boy. He was a full contractor at the point, working and negotiating with influential crowds. It was no surprise that they were able to pay the rates of Mimihagi, not to mention my rate, which was half of my Taichou's.

My heart beat rapidly as I felt the box hidden in my sleeve. My Mizuage ceremony was scheduled to be held at the end of the week. Mimihagi had selected most of the bidders by hand, but was allowing me to invite one man or woman of my choosing to bid.

He had to know who I was going to select.

After a duet that I performed with my Taichou, I made my rounds, pouring sake for all of our guests. When I arrived at Kyouraku's cup, I discreetly slid the lacquered box into his lap. His fingers brushed mine as I pulled my hand away. He knew the implication.

His tone changed for the rest of the night. He grew quiet, barely taking his eyes off of me to engage his business partners in conversation.

When it was time to leave, Shunsui took me behind the teahouse. I expected a quick kiss, as had become customary for us.

I wasn't expecting him to take me by the cheeks and pull me into the most fierce kiss he was capable of. He left me breathless and gasping, lips swollen suspiciously and beginning to bruise. He nibbled at my neck, groans reverberating through my throat.

"Fuck, I want you so bad," he moaned, hands roaming hungrily over my body. I can feel his hands reach down his own body, and I can hear the rustling of his hakama.

"S-stop."

There was no hesitance. He stopped. For a moment, at least.

"Baby," he whined, sucking on my earlobe. "I want you so fucking badly," he reiterated, brow knit in desperation.

"I said, stop." The firmness in my voice made him recoil. I looked him dead in the eye. "I am no whore," I spat, smoothing out my kimono. "I apologize if I have somehow misled you or made you feel that your sexual advances were welcome or appropriate. If you feel desire for me and wish for me to spend a night in your bed, then you will follow the proper channels, and not attempt to take advantage of me behind a teahouse like you would a common prostitute."

I tightened my obi around my body as I walked away, aiming to catch up with my Taichou. I could feel him groan and saw him rub his face in shame as I spared him a look.

I held my chin high as I stormed off. I would need to, if I was going to forbid the gathering tears from falling from my eyes.

Geisha don't feel love.

The aching in my chest was a childish illusion borne from hope and naievety.

* * *

I sold for the price of 5000 yen. Mimihagi was satisfied. The money didn't interest me. I was still upset about what had happened earlier in the week. Guilt ate at my appetite, my sleep, my enthusiasm. I didn't care who purchased the rights to my virginity. It didn't interest me.

That man, the one I'd spoken to so harshly- though it was deserved- the one who could barely contain his immature enthusiasm for me… he interested me.

I spent the day moping. When Mimihagi retrieved me, I followed him like a puppet, empty and tired. For the first and last time in my life, Mimihagi pulled me into a hug and whispered, "You will sing for him a music so sweet." He kissed my cheek and led me into the unfamiliar building.

Though the room was unfamiliar, the man sitting in front of me wasn't.

Kyouraku.

After Mimihagi lit the incense and the three of us spent time in prayer, he departed without a word. I sat in front of him, white kimono draped around my too-thin body, staring at him in awe.

"Why?" I asked. "Why, after what I said?"

Kyouraku grinned. "Because you were right. And I apologize." He stroked my cheek, smoothing down any hair that escaped from my ponytail. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he marveled, looking fondly into my eyes. "Like the sun reflecting on the mountain snow. Beautiful."

Experimentally, he reached back and released the red silk tie holding my hair back. The strands, thin and silver, fell into place around my face. He couldn't resist running both hands through it, a child-like glee in his eyes.

"It's so soft, like a bunny rabbit," he praised. "You should wear it down more often. Look at yourself." He turned my body toward a mirror and I took a second to marvel. Not at my hair, mind you, but at the precious man combing his large, calloused, and particularly hairy fingers through my hair. He looked so pleased with himself.

I felt his chin on my shoulder. I kissed his temple.

"We don't have to have sex. If you just want to lie here for a while, I'm okay with that." He moved to press our noses together and I shook my head.

"You didn't pay such a hefty price to cuddle with me."

"No. But I wouldn't hesitate to."

With that, I pressed my lips to his. I crawled into Shunsui's lap and took one of his hands in both of mine. When we parted, I brought the center of his palm to my chest, and bring it back to my obi, gaze locked onto his.

Time lost all meaning. The only thing that mattered was this beautiful man sobbing his pleasure into my throat. I clawed desperately against his back, his scalp, anywhere I could reach, fearing that my soul would leave my body and drift into space. But he held onto me just as tightly, willing me to stay with him as we made love. And that was what it had to be. No whore felt that way each time she opened her legs, or nobody would ever do anything else. Though the lovebites and fingerprints on my body would fade, my heart would never be the same after that night.

Mimihagi was wrong.

After we had regained our footing upon the earth, he held me for as long as he could, nose buried into my hair as we talked. And we talked for hours. About his work, about mine. We teased each other about the noises we'd made, the way we refused to break contact. He held my hand as he laid behind me, letting that arm rest on my waist. I could have laid there, ignoring the wet spot beneath us in favor of his warm breath on my ear, humming sweetly as he tangled his legs with mine. Shunsui Kyouraku intoxicated me, down to the very soul.

It wasn't just his love, his sex, his very existence making me reluctant to leave him. I strongly suspected, from the time that I was a child, that the human heart and mind knew more than it could from mere fact alone.

When I had exited the okiya, I was a virgin Fukutaichou. When I re-entered, I was a young man, well on his way to becoming a successful Geisha.

In the cover of the night, my revered Mimihagi had passed onto the next life.

For as long as I would live, I would never tell the story of his death to any living soul. It wasn't my place.

Mimihagi's death left me adrift on a still sea, without wind or current. I could only row and pray.

The gods were making it very clear to me that they had sent Shunsui Kyouraku as my guardian angel, a spirit of the earth who loved me with more intensity than I ever could have fathomed.

I opened the door to him one night, bringing him in from the heavy, soaking summer thunderstorm. He took me by the waist and kissed me as soon as the door was closed.

"Kyouraku, what ar-"

His eyes were full of love, pupils opening like the unfolding of a new lily. "Marry me."

I stand, dumbfounded. "I..?"

"Marry me," he insisted- no, begged- clinging to my waist like I might drift away from him.

I turned in his arms, though I made no move to leave. He let his chin drop to my shoulder, stubble scraping against the delicate skin of my throat. "I could give you all that you could ever wish for. We'd be so happy." His eyes were closed, and mine followed suit.

"I can't." The words broke my heart. I brought my hand to my chest, hoping to dull the pain. "I can't. I'm a geisha."

"You don't have to be. I have the money to care for you."

"It's what I'm born to. I can't deny my destiny." I stroked his cheek and he leaned into the touch. "It is my responsibility to carry on Mimihagi's legacy. I can't simply allow him to die."

I think he'd known what my response was going to be. He knew what I was, who I was destined to be. But he wanted to hope, wanted to act like it was possible for me to go to him, to join his side and let him give me the world.

I opened my mouth to tell him how much he meant to me, how much I longed to say yes, if I had been born into any other life. "Shhh." He put his finger against my lips, tragic smile on his mouth. "Jushiro Ukitake. Have you ever received a gift before?"

I shook my head. "Only you."

He gave me a sad smile, stroking my hair out of my eyes. "Then allow me to spoil you. Come, quickly. I can't keep them waiting."

I took his hand and allowed him to lead me. We made our way deeper into the northern part of the district, where only the most wealthy of the Geisha lived.

"You cannot be serious." I gazed upon the okiya. I knew it. There wasn't a Geisha in Seireitei that did not know it. The Zerobantai Okiya was famous for holding the most highly revered Geisha in the world.

"I'm serious."

I held my breath as the gate opened. I gasped in awe as Shutara emerged from the confines of the okiya, looking as radiant as possible in the swift-hitting summer storm. She was the most intimidating woman I'd laid eyes upon. Even in leisure, her hair was adorned with gold, her lips painted red. She gestured us closer, welcoming us out of the rain. She circled me several times, analyzing my posture, my features, my breath, my composure, my spirit.

"Mimihagi left his handprint on your heart." She pressed her hand to my chest. "From today, you are my Fukutaichou." She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Kyouraku. Help him gather his effects. We shall leave the gate unlocked for one night only. I expect him not to delay." She stared into his soul.

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Was it a delay? Perhaps. But we couldn't resist. The moment we made it back to Mimihagi's house, he threw me against the wall, opening my yukata in desperation.

We made love as quickly as we could, unable to keep our hands to ourselves, not knowing when our next opportunity would arise. He was rough, but every twinge I felt as I carried kimono boxes to the carriage filled my heart with fond memories. I smiled to him as we sat across from one another. He kicked his sandal off and rubbed his foot against mine, keeping that contact for the entire ride back to Zerobantai.

My days became a blur. Shutara was a far more strict Taichou than Mimihagi had ever been. Sneaking off with Kyouraku would have earned me a whipping that I'd never forget. The gates locked behind me, and intruders would answer to their crimes with a bullet to the head. It was too risky. So I kept my contact with him brief, chaste. A soft stroke of the thigh while serving tea, a lingering hand and stare while handing him a cup of sake. I felt us drifting apart, and no matter how hard I rowed to him, I could never touch him.


	2. water

**Author's Note:** Fun fact, this was supposed to be a oneshot! But.. I got a little carried away. :D

Warnings for this chapter: Sad Ukitake, Byakuya is a shitlord and gets reamed for it.

* * *

A year passed. Shutara busied my aching heart with dance, with song, with art. I bled. I bruised. I suffered. I barely slept. All for her. No. Not all for her. All for him. Would it be possible for me to let him go? Was it possible for me to regret not accepting his marriage offer? Jushiro Kyouraku sounded so effortless. It was him I saw in my mind when I danced, when I slept. I could feel his hands on my knotted muscles, rubbing and kissing away the tension.

Shutara came to me while I applied my makeup one day, a card in her hand. "I have informed him that you will attend for the both of us." She placed the card in my lap before leaving, not giving me the chance to respond.

I read the card one hundred times over.

He was to be married.

I dropped my charcoal to the tatami and wept until I heaved, unable to rise from all fours. I wept until my heart was empty, until it couldn't possibly bleed any more profusely.

But I attended. I kept my head down, dressed as plainly as possible, not wanting to draw attention. But that was impossible, wasn't it? My white hair singled me out, and he spent his wedding ceremony glancing at me. It shouldn't have hurt the way it did. I wanted to see him happy. I had gone to that goddamned ceremony in hopes of seeing him smile, moved past his greedy desire for a young Geisha. If he moved on, I could move on. I could smile again, knowing that he'd found true love.

I was disappointed.

Much to my protest, he pulled me aside after the ceremony, hidden behind a willow tree, safe from the wandering eyes of his guests.. and his wife.

I'd never seen such a look on his face. He trembled like an earthquake in my hands. I tried to still him, holding his cheeks and whispering words of encouragement into his ear. But he broke in my arms, falling to his knees and bringing me down with him. I held him to my chest as he sobbed, hoping that the gentle beating of my heart would soothe him. When his sobs quieted, I cupped his chin in my hands, supporting him with my delicate fingertips. He brought his forehead to mine and I could feel his breath against mine.

"No," I pleaded quietly. "Please, no. No, no.." I was quieted by his lips on mine, his tongue moving against mine, desperate for the contact it'd waited a year for. I tasted salt, and I couldn't say if they were my tears or his.

 _Adulterer._

The word stamped itself into my heart.

I should have hated him. I should have loathed Shunsui Kyouraku with every fiber of my being for all of the crimes he had committed against my heart.. but I could never bring myself to. I tried. How could he put me through such an indescribable, inescapable hell? Why couldn't he just be happy with her?

I wiped his tears with my sleeve, smoothed his hair back, fixed his clothes. I sent him back to her before suspicions would be raised. But I pressed my back to that willow and let myself weep.

* * *

I became acquainted with his wife at parties. Her name was Nanao. She was kind, I supposed. She came from a noble family, and certainly looked the part. Her hair was kept tight in a bun, glasses on her face, nose always upturned. She looked down that nose at all of us, though she tolerated Shutara far better than she tolerated me. I couldn't blame her, my involvement with her husband aside. Geisha are the company of men. Though many of us were male, we were held to the same beauty and grace standards that women were. It was threatening, to see a man with full lips, gorgeous makeup, hair brushing the small of his back.

When I became my own Geisha, Shutara heavily encouraged me to move away from the okiya. After receiving bids from dozens of okiya owners, I accepted a room from Yoruichi Shihouin. Not long after moving in, she brought a young boy to my bedroom. The child looked scared, anger alight in his beautiful grey-purple eyes.

I knelt before him, offering my hand. "What's the matter, my child?" I asked, stroking his hair out of his eyes. I knew what he was there for. Neither of them had to say a word. Though young, he was strikingly beautiful. He would mature into a fine Geisha, just as I had.

"Brought by his uncle. Last name's Kuchiki." My eyes widened with realization at Yoruichi's words. The Kuchiki family was influential and affluent. I'd read about its crumble in the newspaper. This child had once been a step below a prince, crown jewel of a hefty fortune. But there he was, standing before me in an okiya servant's uniform, nearly ready to be trained to sing and dance. "Protect him, Jushiro."

I smiled in understanding. "There, there," I cooed, wiping away the boy's tears. "I'm sure I have some candy here somewhere."

"I'm too old for candy," he scoffed, a sniffle offsetting his attitude.

I laughed a bit. "My boy. Nobody is too old for candy." I pulled a small bag of konpeito out of my closet and took a piece. I offered it to him and he took some reluctantly, the sugar seeming to pacify him.

"What is your first name, child?" I looked him in the eye. He broke the gaze and dug his toe into the tatami. I hummed in entertainment. "Well, if you won't give one, how about I make one up?" I tapped my chin. "You look like a 'Sora' to me."

He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"Right, right," I laugh. "But if that's all you give me to call you.."

"Byakuya," he grumbled, arms crossed. He wiped his own eyes. "My name is Byakuya."

There. I gave him a smile and bowed. "It's a pleasure, Byakuya. My name is Ukitake-Taichou. I look forward to our time together."

* * *

I quickly learned that Byakuya had manners, he simply chose not to use them. He was a rude, impetuous child, full of temper tantrums and disrespect. He would ignore me, or brush off Yoruichi. He would shrug off any punishment offered. He'd grown up untouchable. Spoiled rotten, actually. And he was well aware. He was of water, but he was a riptide, teeth bared and words stinging.

It wasn't until he'd called Yoruichi's cooking 'pig slop' that I lost my patience with him. My infinite kindness had a limit, and didn't seem to be having any affect on him. So, as the child ran past to go to his room, I grabbed him by the ponytail. With my free hand, I pulled my fan from my obi. I bent him over the table and delivered a short, sharp, powerful slap. Once. Twice. He screamed out in pain. I paid him as much mind as he'd paid us. I beat his ass raw before forcing him to look at me. He was sobbing in pain and in shock.

"One more word of disrespect from you, and I will send you to _make_ pig slop. You'll even get to feed and butcher those damn pigs, do you hear me?" I asked, voice forceful. "You eat what you are served. No whining, no pouting, not even a scowl. You show respect. You obey. Am I perfectly clear?" I snapped.

"Yes," he sniffed, eyes still watery.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

I nodded and released him. "Excellent. Now. Should you finish your chores within an hour, come to me and tell me what you would like for breakfast. I will cook it for you." I gave the boy a smile. He bowed, nodded, and ran off to find his broom.

Yoruichi stared at me for a moment before clapping slowly. I shuddered.

"Ugh, that felt disgusting."

"But he needed it."

"I won't do it again."

"I can't imagine you'll have to."

She was right. I never had to discipline Byakuya again. He was the picture of a perfect apprentice, graceful, obedient, willing to learn, quick to catch on. After a few quiet years, he became my Fukutaichou, a beautiful blossom named Senbonzakura. I covered my radiant apprentice in cherry blossoms, which I'd noticed his affinity toward.

"My sister. She sends me a branch from her cherry tree every year," he told me. "They live in Rukongai, my sisters. I never see them."

I rubbed his back. "Then let's honor them, shall we?"

On the night of my Fukutaichou's release, I was greeted by an old memory, smiling fondly as he stood by the gate. A straw hat hid just how long his beautiful curls had grown, and the goatee he wore was spreading across his face… and his chest, as well.

"Jushiro," he greeted fondly, stepping into the light.

"Why are you here?" I breathed, looking behind me to see if Yoruichi or Senbonzakura could hear us.

He held up a hand. "Calm yourself. I'm here on duty. I have business with Ms. Shihouin." He looked me over. "And I want to congratulate you on your first Fukutaichou's release. I have no doubt he'll be as beautiful and desirable as his Taichou."

I accepted the compliment with a bow. "Right this way, then." I led him to Yoruichi's office. She seemed to be expecting him.

By the time I had Senbonzakura ready and had put on my own makeup, he was gone. I must not have hidden the disappointment from my face well, as Yoruichi placed her hand on my back and rubbed gently.

"Now, Jushiro. Don't fret. You'll see him again." She gave me a knowing smirk. "Go. Flaunt your baby and bring in some money."

* * *

"Excuse me?"

"You aren't dumb, Jushiro."

"... _Excuse me_?"

"You know what a danna is," Yoruichi cried. "Jushiro, you are an accomplished Geisha! It'd be strange for you to not attract a danna."

Byakuya looked confused, looking at us from underneath his cherry blossom hairpiece. "What, pray tell, is a danna?" he asked.

I let out a breath. "A danna is a sponsor to a Geisha. They take over the Geisha's financial burden, oftentimes purchasing a house for him or her. In return, they receive priority in booking arrangements, and are allowed… overnight visits."

Yoruichi cleared her throat. "It's a good thing," she glowered at me.

"Then why fight it?" Byakuya asked me.

I looked at Yoruichi, rubbing my forehead. "Who? If it's Kurotsuchi, I refuse," I warned, looking at her.

"...Shunsui Kyouraku. And it's too late for refusal. I accepted his bid. You're his. The ceremony is in a week. And yes, I told him he could sleep over whenever he chooses." She winked. "There's going to be a lot of sex in this house."

I stared at her, wide-eyed, instinctively clapping my hands over Byakuya's ears. No matter how old he grew, I still thought of him as my impudent little child. Maybe it was the father in me, robbed of its chance to stretch.

Byakuya turned to me with confusion. "Sex? You're both male. I don't understand."

It was going to be a long week.

* * *

"A Geisha, male or female, may never marry," I told Byakuya as he brushed my hair, twisting it gently in his hands. "But we can have our danna." I smiled in the mirror so he could see. "Byakuya, this man has been before me since I was Mimihagi's Fukutaichou. We have history. Not all of it is pleasant.. but this is something I pray you will feel one day."

Turning toward him, I laid my hand on his cheek and stroked his hair away. "Geisha feel love. We are as human as any. Please, never forget that. I want you to fall in love one day."

I closed my eyes long enough to allow him to roll his eyes. No, my Byakuya was full of tradition. It'd take a special soul to breathe some life into him.

I'd allowed Byakuya to pick my kimono for me. I had too many to choose from. Most of them had been Mimihagi's. Some were mine. Some were destined to become Byakuya's. But he'd chosen the one that I never would have expected him to. My breath went thin as he opened the box, unfolding it to dress me.

Waterlilies.

Yoruichi entered my bedroom. She lit candles and incense before patting my head and walking out.

When he stepped into my bedroom, my body acted for me. I'd prepared a speech- flowery words to make him shiver and purr- but the only thing I could do was reach out for him with both hands.

He took my hands and it was like a homecoming. He fell to his knees and crawled to me like an infant, drawing my body close. I allowed him, plucking the straw hat from his head and tossing it to the side. It landed with a flop against the closet door, and was forgotten within seconds. I grabbed that man by the collar and pulled him down on top of me, longing for the feeling of his lips on mine, of his hands on my body.

Nothing held us back that evening. We made love until daybreak, unrushed and indulgent. I lost count of how many times he'd roll over and rub my belly, kissing my throat until I stirred for him. He was well into his thirties at that point, but had all of the vigor and enthusiasm as a man half his age. When it was clear that we were both spent for the night, he pulled me close, rewarding me with a sleepy smile and eyes full of love. He pressed his palm to his lips before placing it gently over my weary heart. I returned the sentiment, holding the pose before crawling on top of him. I tucked my head under his chin, and he found himself humming, stroking my hair leisurely.

"That kimono," he chuckled, bringing a blanket over our naked bodies. "It brings back the vision of a young Fukutaichou, barely reached his release, with his hair tied in such a tidy fashion." He smiled. "I still taste the matcha on your tongue."

"And I taste the sake on yours." I poked his nose. "I remember a cocky young man unable to restrain himself from kissing that young Fukutaichou behind the teahouse, making him smear his makeup and deflect questions for weeks."

Shunsui couldn't help it. He laughed.

"What took you so long?" He didn't need clarification.

"Nanao was.. hesitant," he admitted, looking down at me as well as he could. "She.. well.." He gave a playful grimace. "She doesn't know that conjugal visits are part of the agreement."

I sat up suddenly. "You're telling me that your _wife_ doesn't know that we have sex?" I cried.

Shunsui gave me a sheepish grin. "She would get jealous. You wouldn't."

"And who's to say I wouldn't?"

The playfulness in his gaze turned soft. "You know where your heart is, Jushiro." He took my hand and laced our fingers together, placing it over his heart. "And it's right here."

It never was possible to stay angry with him. I suppose that's why his wife hadn't murdered him. He looked like a puppy, and was just as furry.

Shunsui's tone turned serious for a moment, his hands on my waist as I claimed my position on his chest. "Jushiro. I have, and will, have relations with Nanao. She is my wife. She is a good, kind, dutiful woman. I am going to shield her from as much dishonor as I possibly can." I nodded in understanding, tracing invisible designs on his chest.

"But when your heart aches for home, you know where to find me," I silenced him, my lips pressed to his. I took his hand, still linked to mine, and pressed it to my chest. "You carry me in your heart, as you are in mine. I am in the air you breathe and the moonlight you walk by. You are the foundation I walk upon. We meet at the riverbank, where floating moonlight meets the steadfast earth."


	3. earth

The visits were sparse and never lasted longer than one night. We got our fill of one another and went our separate ways, occasionally meeting for parties and business affairs where Geisha were plentiful. Shunsui took a shining to my Senbonzakura, offering him the floor often, allowing him to stretch his newfound wings. Senbonzakura was a naturally charismatic Fukutaichou, but even as such, he had a hard time gaining traction.

I would never forget the night that my lovely Senbonzakura stepped into the world of the Geisha alone. Shunsui kept me company, keeping me from fretting about my delicate Fukutaichou beginning his own story.

"This is a time of new beginnings, Jushiro," he reminded me, peeling my robe from my body. There were times where sex wasn't our immediate goal, where we simply wanted to tangle ourselves into each other's hold.

"Nanao is pregnant."

I sat up slowly, searching for emotion on my lover's face. The one I found wasn't the one that I wanted, so I influenced him in my favor.

"A baby," I smiled, hands reaching for his. "We're going to have a baby." I began to laugh, full of joy and excitement. "When? Are you hoping for a girl, or for a boy?"

Shunsui calculated the months on his fingers. "Five months from today. Nanao is hoping for a girl, but I have a feeling it's going to be a boy."

I smile joyously. "A sweet girl, with your hair and Nanao's eyes." I leaned against him. "I can't wait to hear what you name her." I ran my fingers through his hair, untangling the knots he had neglected.

My game was clear. I didn't expect him to fall for it. No. That lover of mine was more intelligent than his antics made him seem. He was always drunk, always joking, always flirty, always playful. Not in my bedroom.

"If only I could see the world from your patient eyes, my love." He grinned.

A messenger came for me the moment that Nanao had begun labor. I left my clients in the capable hands of Senbonzakura and Hyourinmaru, a prodigal new hire to the okiya. I ran to them as quickly as I could.

"Her labor has lasted fourteen hours," Kyouraku winced as he saw me, welcoming me into his arms. "I can't stay long. I have to go back in. I just want to see to it that you arrived safely." After a swift kiss to my forehead, he rushed back into the bedroom.

Pacing and praying occupied my time. Praying for what, you ask? For Nanao. For the child. For Shunsui to calm his mind and offer peace to his wife. For myself. For Mimihagi's wisdom to help me navigate this awful, sticky situation.

After another two hours, Shunsui Kyouraku emerged from the bedroom, a bundle of squirming blankets in his arms. My heart leapt with joy.

"Hello, my precious one," I purred as I peeled back the blankets. Curiosity overwhelmed me. "My precious little boy." I placed my hand over his belly, smiling down at the child as he cried. "You have excellent instincts."

"I just know a brat when I see him," Kyouraku grinned proudly. "Hold him, Jushiro. We've named him Shuichi."

I didn't protest. I reached out to take the baby and held him close to my chest. Surprisingly, he had no hair on his head. Little Shuichi was going to take after Nanao. "Oh, but he's got daddy's whining," I teased, letting his flailing hand hold onto my finger. I ignored Shunsui's playful pout. "Nanao?" I asked, turning my attention to the doorway.

"Awake, but too weak to hold him."

Unacceptable. Carefully, I balanced the brand new life in my arms and slid the door open with my foot. The woman looked like she'd been mauled, exhausted and sweat-soaked. Her eyes were swollen and her face was splotchy. She was beautiful. I knelt beside her, offering the child to her. She held her shaking arms out, and I had a better idea.

"Shunsui," I called, bidding him to hold the baby. Once my arms were free, I slid in behind Nanao, despite her protests. I helped her sit up to the best of her ability, then opened my arms to receive the baby. I wrapped my arms around her, the baby held against her chest instead of mine.

As if reading my mind, Shunsui reached out to gently open her robe. With a gentle, guiding hand, I brought her son to her breast.

He latched, and she sobbed. She let her head fall against my chest and I served as her arms, facilitating the first bond of mother to first-born.

I was ordered out at first light.

* * *

He and I saw each other sparsely over the next two years. He had received a promotion and a baby to care for, and so did I. Though, my baby didn't require a diaper. At least, I certainly hoped not.

"So you wish to have two children from Rukongai sent here, given board, and trained as Geisha?" I hummed. "This is difficult sight-unseen, Byakuya."

He bowed low. "One is my sister. Rukia. She will please you." He looked up. "The other, I've never met. His name is Renji. Hisana told me that she found him stealing food, and he warmed her heart. He's of fire, and Rukia is of ice."

I considered for a moment. "Hyourinmaru has expressed interest in taking on a Fukutaichou. He is of ice. You are of water, as am I. Fire does not a good Geisha make."

"I agreed to take both. I refuse to sell him into prostitution."

"A boy you haven't even met." I closed my eyes. "Byakuya. You must trust me." I stared him down. "Take him to Urahara."

"Sir?"

I held up my hand. "Kyouka Suigetsu is of water. Their schoolboy is of earth. He recently bought one child of fire- though she does not know it-, one of air. He will learn what to be, and what not to be." I smiled. "If he survives Kyouka Suigetsu, he will make a fine Geisha." I find my wallet and supply him with several bills.

"This should cover what Urahara needs to be convinced."

I loved having Rukia in the house. She was weepy at first, of course. She'd been separated from her sister and her best friend. But she would grow to love it. The girl absorbed knowledge like a sponge, and she hadn't even begun school. Tuning my shamisen brought an audience. Twirling my fans, dancing with Hyourinmaru or Senbonzakura.. we always had a little shadow. It was endearing.

Rukia accompanied me to Kyouraku's annual flower viewing party. He had expanded his garden, the foliage blooming for miles upon winding miles. I could see Rukia's awe as we arrived, as well as Hyourinmaru's ennui. For a Geisha, that white-haired boy wasn't easily impressed.

I was greeted by the host with a kiss to the makeup-free cheek. Kyouraku slid his hands up and down my waist. "My, my, Sougyou no Kotowari. Look at your parade," he praised, greeting my companions with a beam. He brightened as he saw Rukia, and crouched down a bit. "Well, hello, little lady! Who might you be?"

She bowed. "My name is Rukia Kuchiki. I am a student at present, but seek to start my apprenticeship soon."

He pat her on the back, which bowled the unsuspecting girl onto her belly. I click my tongue at him, a hand on his stomach. "Now, be gentle, my danna," I purred, stuffing a stray strand of hair back into his straw hat. "You know how light our touch is." I slid my hands up his belly, and was rewarded with a hungry stare.

I barely recognized the child who ran past me and clung to Shusui's legs. "My," he laughed, picking the boy up. "Don't you look handsome. Did mommy let you pick your outfit?"

Oh! I stepped into the child's view and gave him a playful smile. "Hello there, Shuichi. Do you remember me?" I asked, framing my face with my hands. The boy shook his head and frowned, burying his head into his daddy's chest. "That's alright. You were so tiny last time we met. You were.." I lit up my face in feigned realization, and fished some cookies out of my sleeve. "About this size!"

The boy gasped.

"Would you like one?" I asked, opening the bag and looking to Kyouraku. He nodded. Shuichi reached out eagerly, and I broke a cookie in half, handing it to the toddler. He shoved as much of it into his tiny mouth as he could.

"Shunsui." I froze as I heard the voice. "He isn't to have so many sweets," Nanao chastised. There was an evident swell in her belly. She wasn't only pregnant again, but was due soon. Feeling overshadowed and awkward, I took a step back, instructing my others to go see who needed tea, and for Rukia to go enjoy the party.

Kyouraku waved her off. "It's alright, my dear Nanao. Jushiro made them, and I told Shuichi he could have one. Here, baby, can daddy have a bite?" he asked, and took a bite out of the half of a cookie that Shuichi had been nibbling on.

Nanao looked as if fire-breathing were possible. She placed a hand on her belly and indicated for him to follow her. Shunsui gestured for me to wait a minute, before trudging after his wife. I averted my eyes at that point. It wasn't my business.

He returned minutes later, with Nanao storming off across the garden with Shuichi. He groaned and let his head fall against my chest. I laughed and rubbed the little of his scalp I could reach under his hat. "I'm so miserable, baby," he pouted, cuddling close to me. I pulled his head up to look at him.

"What's wrong? Come. Tell me everything."

I led him to a secluded patch near the pond and sat him down, letting him have a rare moment of indulgence and cuddle against my chest.

"This new job.. I never escape the stress," he admitted, sighing as I massaged his shoulder. "Nanao.. she knows." He peeked up at me. "She knows that I'm in love with you."

My heart fell, but more for her than for him. She hadn't deserved to be caught in the middle.

"The sex that conceived that baby was the last I've had." I kissed his forehead. "I wish I'd been able to visit. I've needed my time with you more than I've needed air," he whined, kissing my throat.

I moaned softly, which only encouraged him. "Then visit me. I'll shoulder some of your burden for you," I promised, stroking his hairy cheek. He grinned against my exposed collar bone.

"Oh, I've got a load for you," he whispered into my ear, hand traveling up my thigh. I stopped it before it could reach my crotch.

"Mr. Kyouraku, we are in public," I hissed low, linking his fingers with mine.

"Frankly, Ukitake-Taichou, I don't give a damn," he smirked, growling hungrily against my earlobe. "I've been hard for you since yesterday," he complained into my ear, spreading my knees apart. I gasped. "Baby, I'm so desperate for you that I don't think I could make it to the bedroom before spilling myself."

He licked my earlobe, and I shuddered. "Honestly, you are no more than an overgrown, hormonal teenager," I chastised lightly. I couldn't believe that I was actually considering indulging him. I scanned the horizon, searching for somewhere nobody would look.

My gaze landed upon a willow tree and I stood, breaking from his grasp and taking off toward it. I let him catch up briefly, laughing into the wind as he had to hold onto his hat. He ran after me like an old man.

"Caught'cha!" He finally wrapped his arms around me from behind as I circled the willow, grinning as I screamed quietly in surprise. My belly ached with the force of my laughter as he picked me up and twirled me. He turned me so that my back pressed up against the bark, and he ran his hands up my thighs. "Such a naughty young Geisha, aren't you?" he teased, pressing our chests together.

I licked his lips sensually, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and thrusting my hips into his. "Better a naughty young Geisha than a lecherous old man."

"Old!?" he mourned, turning me so that he could loosen my obi. I didn't mind. It was just a light yukata, fitting for the weather. "I'll show you old, Mr. White Hair." He took a handful of it and kissed me, open-mouthed and passionate.

"Ahh, but you don't refute the claim that you're a letcher?" I laughed, pulling away from him to grind my hips against his.

His patience was wearing thin. "That part's true," he snarled into my ear, opening my yukata enough to touch my bare thighs. I gasped.

It didn't take much teasing for him to reach his breaking point. He spread the silk and lifted my legs, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. He held me up, arms thick and strong. I felt him line up and placed one hand out to his hat.

"Hat off," I breathed, cheeks flushed.

He blinked, then grinned. "No way. The hat's half of my charm."

I grinned back. "Mmm, I won't have sex with you if the hat stays."

"What if you just don't see it?" He put me down and turned me, shoving my yukata away from my backside and spreading me before him. I laughed, forehead pressed against the willow bark. That laugh turned into a surprised gasp, and devolved into quiet, sex-drunk moans as he slipped in and started to move.

I closed my eyes and simply felt, our moans mixing into the sweet music of lovers. He held my hips and rubbed my back, soothing any pain I felt. I clawed the trunk of the tree, thrusting back against him with as much energy as I could muster. I came first, unexpectedly, throwing my head back and moaning his name. I looked back at him, eyes lidded heavily with satisfaction, and licked my lips as he sped up.

Shunsui was rough with me. He was only rough when he was desperate, when he reached his breaking point. He needed me desperately, and my body was the best medicine I could offer him.

I think his orgasm surprised him, his hips stuttering into mine and him having to muffle one of his famous climax cries by biting my shoulder.

I was boneless as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his hakama. He helped me redress, though I winced as I stood upright.

"Sorry," he deadpanned. "I was going to pull out, but.." He cuddled me close, cheek rubbing against my neck. "You're just so sexy! I couldn't contain myself."

"Mmmhm," I laughed skeptically, and snatched the hat from his head and placed it upon mine. "If you catch me," I called, looking him in the eye and licking my lips. "I'll use my mouth on you, just the way you like."

* * *

I hadn't walked away that night with Shunsui's straw hat, but I did take away his laugh in my ear and his taste on my lips. Just a smile would have kept me satisfied for weeks.

After the birth of his second child, he visited me more often. He brought pictures of little Shuichi, and new baby boy Hikaru, since Nanao only wanted me near when it was socially expected- a party, or a business luncheon. She held no love in her heart for the Geisha who had her husband tied around his little finger.

Work and the affairs of the okiya kept me distracted in his absence. As months passed, Hyourinmaru selected his Fukutaichou. He was the top dancer in his class, a spitfire of a Fukutaichou that he named Ruri'iro Kujaku.

"Can't I be Fuji Kujaku? It rolls so sensually off of the tongue, doesn't it?" he purred, shaking his his seductively.

Hyourinmaru glowered at him. "Yumichika. You're Ruri'iro Kujaku. Fuji Kujaku would sound stupid. Purple Peacock, really?"

"You're just jealous!"

"Of _what_?"

I laughed. "Babies, babies." I waved my hand.

They kept me young. All of them. Rukia, Senbonzakura, Hyourinmaru, Ruri'iro Kujaku. Age was important to a Geisha. The average age of retirement was thirty-five, with only the best working until forty. I didn't count myself among the elite. Mimihagi had spoken of retiring, and he had just reached thirty when he passed away. The sand was pouring to the bottom of my hourglass.

I had been the only Fukutaichou that Mimihagi had ever taken. Though Senbonzakura- my Seireitei blossom- was everything that I'd hoped he would be, I wanted to pass my knowledge onto the younger generation. They would be our legacy. They would be starlight amidst candlelight.

Speaking of candlelight…

Seasons passed with Rukia as my Fukutaichou. I named her Sode no Shirayuki, her pale skin and icy demeanor reminding me of a crippling snowstorm. As I painted her face, I glanced down at the candle lighting my canvas, and I was reminded of the conversation I'd had with Senbonzakura years back.

"Rukia, if I may ask, what ever became of your friend? The one that came from Rukongai with you?"

She bowed her head. "I do not know. I have not seen him in classes, and Kyouka Suigetsu told me to never come snooping again."

I rolled my eyes and rubbed her back. "Rukia, do you mind if your brother and I make an inquiry? I know that he is interested in the boy's wellbeing, and I must admit that I was quite looking forward to meeting such a fiery young man."

With Rukia's permission, Byakuya and I launched a bit of an investigation. I arranged to pick Shinsou up from Urahara's okiya under the intention of vetting his Fukutaichou for a festival that we would be performing in. Shinsou was an interesting young Geisha, but my goodness, he was unsettling. I didn't trust him, and had suggested to my students and close colleagues to follow suit. Rattlesnakes like Kyouka Suigetsu gave warnings before striking, but cobras coiled in silence. Which was more deadly?

I caught my first glimpse of the boy that night. He was tanned and broad of shoulder. He was young and scrawny, but he was destined to be tall and muscular. His hair certainly was red, wasn't it? Fire permeated that dear child, even as he closed the gate behind Shinsou and I. The robe on his body was cheap and thin- he was a servant, not a Geisha in training. Such a pity. He would have been popular.

"It's too late for him. It isn't possible."

I regarded Byakuya with skepticism as we walked through my garden one early morning, the dew still clinging to the grass and flower petals. "Byakuya. I didn't raise you to shy away from a challenge." I knelt beside a large chrysanthemum flower and ran my fingers over the bloom. "That okiya is in flux right now. Shinsou has graduated- in record time, I may add. It's possible that little Tobiume may take after her Taichou's first underling." I faced him.

"The boy lives with Geisha, Kuchiki-Taichou. He is exposed to them. He learns from them, whether he chooses to or not."

Byakuya's yukata fanned out behind him as he sat in the grass beside me. "I had wished that you would take him as your Fukutaichou, and that Sode no Shirayuki would be mine."

I stroked his cheek. "My dear Senbonzakura, you know that the gods asked you to shoulder this burden. I will help you. I will help him. I am certain that all of us would be willing, even precious Ruri'iro Kujaku." I turned his attention to the koi pond.

"There is water, and there is water," I began. "Byakuya. I am the ocean. He could stay afloat, perhaps. But there would come a time where I would pull him under and extinguish his fire." I shook my head. "You, my child were once whitewater, tempestuous and volatile. Now, you have calmed into a slow-flowing river, wide and steady. He will be the lantern floating on your surface."

From the garden, the gate was visible. I caught a flash of a pink kimono, and stood suddenly. "If you'll excuse me," I bowed, and left my once Fukutaichou in the grass.


End file.
